


Bound

by ZarAlexander



Series: Free! [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Introspection, One Shot, Other, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarAlexander/pseuds/ZarAlexander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How a tiny man like Haru-chan could cast such a huge shadow would always be a mystery to Tachibana Makoto." [OneShot, companion piece to "Escaped", first impressions after episode 6th of Eternal Summer]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language.  
> All kinds of feedback are appreciated, so... shoot! Also, I'm up for challenges, requests, etc :)

_Come break me down_  
Bury me, bury me  
I am finished with you  
Look in my eyes  
You're killing me, killing me  
All I wanted was you

_(“The Kill” - 30 Seconds to Mars)_

 

How a tiny man like Haru-chan could cast such a huge shadow would always be a mystery to Tachibana Makoto.

They had been kids together – friends, teammates, schoolmates. So much that, in most people's minds, they couldn't exist without one another.

Makoto and Haruka, Haruka and Makoto – always together, always the same.

And yet, year after year, stroke after stroke the puddle of darkness stretching behind Haru-chan's back had just kept growing, thin and long like the waves he left behind in the swimming pool. What had looked to Makoto like just a handful of water in between them had slowly and inexorably turned into an abyss, deep and stormy like the open sea he was so scared of.

He doubted Haru-chan had ever realized it.

The frustration, the sweat, the hard work Makoto had poured into it all, just to be able to barely chase him from afar. Because, unlike him, Makoto was no genius. No natural talent, no gifted body – just dedication, training and anger and disappointment.

And he hated it.

Oh, yes, a hate so profound that it easily turned into self-disgust.

Why bother, if he was never going to be that good? Why taking on the responsibility of being a captain, a leader, a mentor? And for someone who had never noticed a single thing? Why did he insist on trying to empty the ocean through cupped hands?

Once upon a time, love would have been the answer.

He had truly believed there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep Haruka close to him, or even just to be able to stare at his figure as it disappeared below the surface of the water.

Unlike Haru-chan, Tachibana Makoto had never been free.

And the saddest part was that he had build the chains holding him back with his own hands, blindly believing that they were the only thing keeping his existence together.

'One day', he kept thinking, over and over again, like a mantra, like a prayer.

But that one day had never come, and what did he expect to happen anyway? Was he really waiting for a “Thank you”? For a hug, for a kiss? What exactly had he bet all his hopes onto?

And still, he had continued.

He had kept on smiling, always being the goody-two-shoes, the exemplary captain, son and older brother.

What he had never been, though, was himself. At least, not after he had realized that “being with Haru-chan” was no longer his only aspiration and dream.

That's why, all of a sudden, the only thought flooding Makoto's mind had been the need for a closure. The longest paragraph of his life needed a full stop and there was only one way.

A race.

A real one, no holding back, no “being free” bullshit.

And, since he knew all too well that Haru-chan would never accept to swim backstroke, he had once again made a sacrifice, the last one. He had trained hard, harder than ever in his entire life.

He had entered the 200 meters freestyle because that's how he wanted it to be – in front of everyone else. And Rin in particular, as he probably was the only one, even back then, to have ever appreciated at least a bit of his own frustration.

That was it, the final showdown, one of those “make it or break it” situations he had always tried to avoid and conceal. Even his own friends had been surprised by his decision and for the longest moment, staring into Nagisa's questioning eyes, he had thought he couldn't really keep any of his feelings bottled up one more second.

But with that self-control he had mastered so perfectly, there he was now. Smiling one last time, as he stood in front of the blue pool, as he turned around to try and spot something – anything – on Haruka's face in a ditch effort to salvage whatever was left.

Nothing.

Like a million and one times before that, like his entire existence. Nothing but the word 'free', spinning into his mind like a whispered insult.

The three whistles echoed, louder than expected, signaling to get ready. That was it, just a matter of seconds, no turning back.

Maybe, for once, Makoto would be 'free' as well.

 

- **The End -**

 

 

 

 

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Hated it? Want more? Let me know!


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